Twins at Seattle. Mariners 4, Twins 2.

It is sign of the horrible perversity of Satan that the date he put into his Palm Pilot for the End of Time would coincide with something as pure and good as Cupcake Day. And when BG woke up this morning, checking carefully out of her window for boiling seas, bloody moons, and a two-horned Beast, she had one last wish—that each and every person on earth would be able to enjoy his cupcake before the End came. Batgirl savored hers early (thanks to BatBandwagoner who caused 6 + 6 cupcakes to appear on her doorstep this morning), with a tall glass of lactose-free milk (though, really, why bother with the Lactaid when the end is nigh?).

It didn't happen, of course, unless the End is very much like every other day except with more cupcakes. Batgirl thinks, ironically, it's the goodness of Cupcake Day itself that may have saved us all (the power of Cupcake Day compels you—take thatPrince of Darkness!). Whatever the reason, we seem to have survived, eschatologically-speaking, though not so much baseball-wise. I don't know what's a more ominous sign—the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse prancing down your street or the Twins with late-inning scoring opportunities. And exactly how many plays do we need to watch the left side of our infield botch before we call in those horsemen ourselves?

You see, the thing about the Beast is he comes well after the apocalypse has started—in other words by the time he's skipping around making fire fall from the sky and giving everyone UPC code tattoos, earth has already entered a great-big rebuilding phase. And the Beast was there tonight at SafeCo, lingering on the field as the Twins continued their sloppy defense, at the plate as one after another blew a scoring opportunity. He was there, putting his mark on those who will not be saved, and maybe he'll be there tomorrow batting for the Twins because God knows, he can't do any worse than the guys we have now.

Edit: infield has a pretty great analysis of the blown pop-up in Saturday's game.